Images of both delights and horrors rose all around and the feelings of longing and despair fell upon us.

In this place, the disparity of a gentle mother with a warm smile brandishing a knife ready to find home in the soft places beneath our armor was all too real. Living delights danced and sang, tempting us to partake of pleasures, both of spirit and flesh, only to turn to poison and razors when enjoyed. It is a chaotic place where strength of mind and body mean everything.

Overcoming the obstacles yielded a change, an ever-so-slight shift in the reality of this place, and a brief glimpse of wonders that might be. Only when our minds were remade with scars, only when we could resist this cruel mirage, could we flee its embrace.

Finally, when our weapons were dull and broken, our breaths nearly spent and our bodies knee-deep in blood, the crimson liquid turned into gold and silver.